Gethsemane
All that night I walked alone and wept. I tore a rose and dropped it on the ground. My heart was lead; all that night I kept Listening to hear a dreadful sound.
A tree bent down and dew dripped from its hair. The earth was warm; dawn came solemnly. I stretched full-length upon the grass and there I said your name but silence answered me.
Arna Bontemps